February 14, 2014
Entering Asia (Whats The Fuss?): Near Sarkoy to Beyond Canakale.
Once again it is a sunny morning. And after the initial leg stretching climb from where I'd camped at the bottom of a forested hill, it is all easy downhill towards the sea with land visible opposite across the strait; called the Dardanelles; its where the Marmara sea narrows to a few kilometres wide, continuing west to the Mediterranean. I thought the road ahead would like shown on the map follow the coast, but at the village of Sarkoy, the road from the roundabout turned inland again and a longish slow climb ensued. Before long, I see over on the right the pine clad hill where I camped last night. I'm almost back it seems to where I started earlier.
There come the descent and ahead I see highway D550, with trucks moving along from left to right and vice versa. When I reach it, its a good four-lanes with ample smooth shoulder for carefree cycling. I stop at this point in off the road on a track for a second breakfast, finishing the muesli and using the small bottle of yogurt that has been in the bag two days;, fizzing up and over flowing when I unscrew the cap.
There come another bit of an incline and ahead dark cloud moves across with a curtain of rain. On the crest of the hill I take a photo and just have the camera put away when I get splotched with big droplets of rain. I quickly put the rain-jacket on. There's a petrol station restaurant at two kilometres, shown on a billboard. I make for this sloshing along on wet sheen road. I seem to have miss the worse of it. Then riding in under the awning in front of the restaurant the sun come out again with a small rainbow beyond the road.
Inside there's a breakfast buffet laid out on a counter in the middle with white cheese, black and green olives, salad, eggs and different kinds of bread. I load my plate and the price is a reasonable twelve Turkish; though, the girl give me back ten in change for a twenty. Once I've eaten my fill and have a second then third cup of tea, I write in my notebook what has happened so far today and how it would be a good idea to learn a few words of Turkish like: yes, no, please and thank you; perhaps, the numbers one to ten and, how much. Instead of just feeling awkward when someone speaks to me.
It is good timing to reach the ferry just as the last trucks drive on. I buy a ticket costing two-fifty for the twenty minute sailing, and push the bike on via the gangway to the side for foot-passengers. In the cafeteria I have more tea and a young man having seen me cycling asks am I cycling to Canakale. I reply I am, to which he laughs, then says it's thirty kilometres.
In the port town the other side, I stop at a small supermarket to buy the necessary bottle of pepsi, a cake and biscuits. This will do me for supper and first thing in the morning.
The thirty kilometres to Canakale are on a straight four lane highway, six if you count the shoulders, and seems to be mostly uphill. Though it is a Spring day. The sun shining and pink blossoms on fruit trees, with a view of the Dardanelles straits on the right. The sun is setting as I reach Canakale, a large town with either side built up for more than ten kilometres. On the other side I'm glad to see woodland start immediately. It is fenced at the road, but I turn along a side road and cycle for about half a kilometre with the wood on rising ground on the left and an occasion house on the right where a dog barks. I eventually come to a small gap in the fence and push the bike through. There's a trail I follow upwards to the hilltop where there's an open level spot, ideal for camping with an underlay of thin grass and pine-needles.
Today's ride: 89 km (55 miles)
Total: 10,574 km (6,566 miles)
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